The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One) (10 page)

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Authors: Lenore Wolfe

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BOOK: The Fallen One (Sons of the Dark Mother, Book One)
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And that was it. He didn’t talk for
the rest of the trip to the tiny town in the mountains southwest of
Colorado Springs. When they got there, they stayed at the only
motel they could find. He rented them separate rooms, and they
slept through until nearly noon the next day.

They didn’t know what they were
looking for, so they settled on some late breakfast at the homey,
little café. The waitress brought them coffee and menus. They sat
there, poring through the list of homemade this and that, and
finally ordered.

Jes waited until she’d written
their orders on her little tablet, and then, since they didn’t have
a single, other place to start, she asked the waitress if she’d
ever seen anyone around fitting Justice’s parents description. His
father had an unusual look to him. He had pretty light eyes, light
hair, light skin. The humans would have said he looked somewhat
albino. Recognition dawned in the waitresses eyes.

Jes felt Justice go tight with
realization.

The waitress turned, then, to stare
at Justice. Her gaze narrowed on his face. Recognition
strengthened, and she told them to wait there a minute because she
had something for them, and left the room. When she returned, she
brought Jes a leather-bound journal. “I can save you the
time—asking all over town.” She looked right at Justice. “I thought
I recognized you. Your mom—.”

Justice glared at her in fury. The
look he gave her would have warned most to hold their tongues, but
the waitress smiled kindly at him.


Your momma told me all about each
of you. She came with your father each day. She left the journal
here, because we’re the only café in town. She said if you ever
came looking, you would wind up here—if only just to eat—and so you
have.” She laughed. She gave him an entreating look. “She was the
one who sent you the blank postcard.” She dropped her voice to a
near whisper. “She wouldn’t have dared to do anything else,” her
whisper was frantic now, and she leaned in toward him. “I think the
postcard put them in danger, because they disappeared after
that.”

 

When they left the café, they were
both too stunned to speak. They got into the pickup and drove in
silence. The waitress had said they wouldn’t find anything else in
this little town, but they were too amazed to head back right
now—and they wanted to look at the leather-bound journal. So they
headed back to the motel. When they got there, Justice parked. They
just sat there for several long moments—neither of them saying
anything. Finally, Justice drug himself out of the
truck.

When they got to one of the rooms,
Jes set it on the bed, and they both stared at it.

It was tooled leather, beautifully
bound—and it might be from Justice’s mother, but it was the first
real clue they had about that day, and they both knew
it.

Finally, Justice looked up at Jes.
“I can’t. Will you?”

Jes nodded and swallowed hard. She
picked it up and, with trembling hands, opened it to the first
page. Looking down, her eyes filled full of tears as she read out
loud to Justice.


Dear Children: If you have this
journal, it means you have found your way to the Garden of the Gods
and beyond. I hope this finds you well. It is in my deepest prayers
to the Goddess that she has watched over you all—including
Jes.”

At this point, Jes sucked in a
breath, and stumbled over the use of her name. She looked at
Justice, wide-eyed. Looking back down at the journal, she went
on….


Justice, you must be careful. I
took a chance leading you here. I hope that Jes is with you. I will
not take any more chances with your lives than the one I took right
now. It was too important to get this warning out to you, not to
take this one risk. But you have no idea the danger you all are in.
And since I know you went back to Chicago, they will know. They
will
all
know.
That is why I had to take this risk. I hope you will forgive me.
But Justice—they will be following you….


So I’ve written you as much as I
can, here, in hopes that all of you will understand what has taken
place—and why we had to leave. I know that you have planned
carefully—you and your sisters—as we have taught you—training every
single day for what has to take place….” Jes looked up at that
point frowning. He only watched her steadily, so she went back to
reading. “But the time has come… as I know you are fully
aware.


Son, your father and I must have
seemed so very different to you and your sisters—long before we
left. I’m so sorry, son. Things just got so very difficult. There
are still some things I must never speak of—but I hope you’ll
understand—when this is through.”

Jes stopped, looking up at Justice,
trying to gauge how he was taking his mother’s words so far. He
nodded, so she went on.

She was surprised to read that the
next words were directed to her. “Jes,” she read, “I’m afraid I
must give you some heartbreaking news,” she sucked in her breath,
unable to go on.

Justice took the journal from her
trembling hands. Taking her hand in his, he read. “Jes, I’m afraid
I must give you some heartbreaking news,” he reread. He squeezed
her hand and read on. “I know how hard it must be, for all of you,
to wonder what has happened to all of us, but it will be most
difficult for you to learn that your mother died that day—the day
we all disappeared.”

Jes sucked in her breath as the
blow of his mother’s words hit her midsection like a
fist.


Her death is one of the reasons
that we
had
to
disappear….” His voice trailed off. He let his mother’s journal
fall to the bed and took Jes in his arms while she cried her heart
out in deep, gulping sobs.

When she was spent, he put his arms
around her, holding her close—and they slept.

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

Justice

Jes woke first.
She lay there for some time, getting her
bearings. She realized in that moment that though they had still
rented two rooms for the second night, neither of them had gone to
the other one. Instead, they had slept the entire night curled
up—together. She didn’t know what to think about that—wasn’t
prepared to allow herself to censor how it had felt—at all. It had
felt too right—to want to ruin that feeling right now.

The moment she moved, she was aware
of the fact that Justice watched her. She sat up to pick up the
journal. She looked at him, and he nodded, sitting partway up and
running a hand through his hair. She knew that he was aware of how
much she needed to read on.

 

Justice sat there—watching her as
she searched for the place they had left off in their reading last
night. She didn’t have the answers he’d had all of these years. It
must have been difficult for her—not knowing—not understanding. No
matter what else had happened—he and his sisters had been pretty
much aware of what had taken place.

They had been training all of their
lives—were much too aware of the politics of their people—of the
condition of their family—not to put all the pieces of the puzzle
together fairly quickly.

But not Jes.

She had been left—pretty much fully
in the dark. That was another reason why he’d brought her here. He
didn’t need the journal—so far his mother had not told him anything
that he had not already figured out. Except for the fact that Jes’s
mother had died.

He hadn’t figured that one out—had
not had any way of knowing that anything like that had occurred.
But the rest of it—their running—the fact that they were all in
danger—that everyone knew he had returned to Chicago—especially
after Jes had gone to Second Chances looking for him. All of this,
he had known.

But she hadn’t.

She didn’t have any idea why one
day she’d climbed out of bed and, by the end of the day—her whole
world, as she knew it, had blown up.

She needed this time. It was a
little dangerous. Okay, it was more than a little dangerous. It
wasn’t like him to take risks. He usually did everything
after
it was all well
thought-out—well planned.

But he hadn’t planned this
one.

No—this one he’d done—straight from
the heart.

 


Jes,” she read out loud. “I’m so
very sorry, but I must not tell you who killed your mother. I think
your knowing would place you both in even greater danger—but most
especially you…,” her voice trailed off. She shook her head. What
on Earth had that meant? It was almost as if she were trying to
tell Jes something with those words. She looked up at Justice with
a question in her eyes.

He’d sat up upon hearing those
words. He’d heard the warning too, but he’d also heard what his
mother hadn’t said by using those particular words. “Especially
you…,” his voice trailed off. “Jes, that sounds as though you know
her killer….”

She nodded. “That’s exactly what I
was thinking,” she said. “And it sounds as though whoever my
mother’s… whoever my mother’s….” she stumbled over the words,
“killer… was… is someone I love and…,” she looked up into his
darkened eyes, “….trust.”

He gathered her into his
arms.

Jes stiffened. Her mother had been
murdered. And she was taking comfort in the arms of another
murderer.

Justice pulled free from her and
stood.

She wanted to take back her
thoughts—but she could not. And they both knew why.

He headed toward the door to go to
the other room. He turned back at the door. “Jes, I’m sorry about
your mother.” His gaze sought hers. She nodded. “You probably need
to take that journal in—a little at a time. I’ll bring your bag;
let’s get cleaned up. It’s a long drive back.”

Jes could only nod—again. She
averted her gaze, and tried her best to keep her thoughts on
something neutral.

 

They made the trip home in silence.
The entire way, they hardly said a word. They were each deep within
their own thoughts, and Jes was also deep in her grief. Whenever
they had to stop, Justice bought her something to drink and
something to snack on, and she would mumble her thanks.

She would watch him when he looked
her over, trying to determine if she were all right—he was pretty
sweet—for someone who… she stopped that thought in its tracks,
because whenever these thoughts entered her head, she would see him
turn away: in disgust—and something else.

She didn’t try to read any more of
the thick, leather-bound journal. She didn’t know if she could take
anymore right now.

Who had killed her mother? And why
did that put her in danger? Most of all—what could have happened
that fateful day—all those years ago—to cause two families to go
into hiding?

And
why
had they left their children
behind?


Perhaps,” said Justice, musing
out loud, as usual, reading her thoughts, “it was the only way to
keep us—
out of danger
.”
He nearly whispered the last—as
if it were the first time that had ever occurred to him.

Jes went back to looking out the
window—remembering her mother.

 

She had been a quiet woman, a good
and gentle woman. She didn’t say much, so when she did, she was
usually heard by all—especially Jes’s father.

But Jes remembered the last few
weeks with her parents, before they disappeared, and they hadn’t
been the usual, pleasant ones of her childhood.

Her parents had fought—she
remembered because she had started to fear they would divorce, like
so many other families she knew around her. She didn’t know what
they’d been fighting over, since they kept their arguments behind
closed doors, and kept their voices low. She could only make out
the heated, muffled sound of their voices.

But nothing could hide the
anger.

She’d never seen her mother so
angry. It frightened her. Her usually gentle mother was furious
with her father. And try as Jes might, she couldn’t figure out
why.

Jes was pulled out of her troubled
memories when Justice took her hand. It was so easy to feel
comforted by him. And for once, she didn’t follow that up with what
he was. Right now, she just needed to allow herself a minute of
comfort.

 

It was very late when they reached
Chicago. A thousand miles was a long way to drive in one trip. It
was actually a little more a thousand, but who was counting?
Justice just knew it was damned long way.

He took her into her apartment,
made sure she was safe, and headed for his own. She hadn’t
questioned him, just let him drive away.

He wished she would have questioned
him.

But he had someone to deal with.
And finding Jes didn’t change that. He wished it did. But he could
not stop what was about to happen—even if he wanted to.

Jes didn’t begin to know the danger
into which she’d put herself. He’d have to step up his plans if he
were going to find a way to protect her, too. He wished he could
have kept her out of the coming danger—but she’d placed herself
right in the middle of it the moment she’d stepped into that
gangbanger’s house.

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